


k2tog

by athaclena



Series: Destiel Smut Bingo 2018 [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adult Knitwear, Crochet, Destiel Smut Bingo 2018, Getting Together, Inappropriate Prophylactics, Knitting, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 16:11:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16478750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athaclena/pseuds/athaclena
Summary: Cas takes up knitting, and starts giving Dean wildly inappropriate knitwear. Is this a hint? Dean's not sure how he feels about it... until he is.Fills the Sexy Crafting square of my Smut Bingo card. Written forsupernatural9917: Happy (belated) Birthday, darling!





	k2tog

**Author's Note:**

  * For [supernatural9917](https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernatural9917/gifts).



> k2tog: knit 2 together. An easy stitch which combines two stitches into one.
> 
> With extra thanks to [Hectatess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hectatess/pseuds/Hectatess), who provided extra inspiration in picture form, and everyone else on the Pinefest Discord who supported me.

Six months in and Cas' knitting hobby is out of control. There are hats and scarves scattered around the Bunker. Jack has a special blanket made of the softest wool Dean's ever felt. Sam has a hoodie with a moose on it. Dean now owns two handmade sweaters, three pairs of perfectly fitting socks, as well as fingerless gloves, actual gloves with conductive thread cunningly embroidered onto the fingertips, and a small version of the Impala. Turns out not sleeping is great for knitting time.

One of the pairs of socks has intricate black and white stitches in what Dean had thought was an abstract pattern. But he just fell over his pants while taking them off and right in his eye level is a perfect pattern of little dicks. Lots of them. All hidden through the socks.

What the fuck.

He finds Cas in the Dean Cave, his favourite place to knit and watch Netflix these days (which is what Dean had wanted so that plan worked), and flourishes the socks. “Dude. What the hell. If you wanna insult me, do it do my face.” Because that has to be the reason for the socks, right? Cas is calling him a dick, and laughing at him every time he wears the socks. Which he has. Several times. And it really explains why Sam had laughed at him when he wore them.

“I didn't intend to insult you, Dean. Do you... not like them?” The uncertainty in Cas' voice is pretty heartbreaking, and Dean rushes to reassure him.

“No, I love them, they're great, it's just that the pattern is, uh, dicks. And I only saw that today. So I was a little... why dicks? Did you not know that was in the pattern?”

Cas looks at him gravely. “What answer do you want, Dean?”

Dean's so thrown he physically takes a step back. What does he want as the answer? If these beautifully handmade dicks aren't a carefully crafted insult, what could the reason be?

For that matter, what's the reason for him being the biggest beneficiary of Cas' yarn craze? Jack has some beautiful pieces, the blanket that Cas made is heirloom quality for sure, it's the kind of blanket that you'd give your kid and even Dean's not stupid enough to miss that fact. But Dean's had the most, and that's a... it's a thing alright.

“I, uh, I uh... I don't, uh..” Why's his mouth so dry when his palms are sweating? “Don't think I have an answer for that right now, Cas, sorry.”

Cas nods. “That's okay, Dean. Take as much time as you need.” And he goes back to his Norwegian knitting show with a small smug smile.

 

Dean gets cuffs made from knitted leather, thick and chunky and tight around his wrists in the best way. He sees Cas knitting a longer, thinner piece but never receives it, and the thought of what it could be definitely fuels several special Dean Time sessions.

He gets another scarf, and it looks like it's just thinly striped until he catches it at the right angle and suddenly there's a dick, clear as day. The optical illusion impresses him, although the size of the dick is pretty intimidating. Good for winding little brothers up though, so he makes a note to wear it next time Sam's annoying him.

But it's the latest present that has him hiding in the Impala, driving aimlessly through the Kansas night. Back in his room, a crocheted penis – erect, and extremely similar to Dean's own – rests beside a knitted condom made with tiny stitches and silky smooth yarn. It's a clear invitation and statement of intent, and Dean is quietly freaking out about it.

Sure, he cares about Cas. And finds him attractive. And sure, he can admit that he's not just attracted to women. At least he can in the privacy of his own head. He's not ashamed or anything, he's just still got some stuff to work out, like how to deal with Sam's stupid “I support you but also I knew it ha ha you're so slow Dean” face, which he is pretty goddamn sure he's going to be on the receiving end of.

And sure, maybe what he feels for Cas goes well beyond mere care and attraction. Maybe Dean's stupid heart has been broken all of those times that Cas has died. But there's flat-out no way that Dean is worthy of him. He was a demon. Twice. And an angel meat suit. And he's a fucked-up mess of a human being, if he can even still be called that with all of the rot on his soul and - 

And Cas looks at him like he hung the goddamn moon, and he knitted a tiny Impala – full of fiddly, intricate details – just to make Dean smile. The wheels even turn. And he apparently has paid enough attention to Dean's dick that he can crochet a perfect replica, even down to the shape of the big vein that throbs when Dean's really turned on – which, okay, little creepy, but no-one does that if they don't care a lot for someone. And want to jump their bones.

And maybe this time Dean won't mess it up. And even if he did, wouldn't it be worth it? Wouldn't it set his soul on fire, as well as his heart and ever-optimistic dick?

So he turns round and drives back home, stopping at Walmart on the way back for supplies. Quite a lot of supplies. He's not the only one either; there are two other men and one woman in various states of dishevelment all rooting around in the condom aisle, and the cashier is grimly amused and clearly jealous as all hell by the time Dean musters the bravado to buy thick lube and extra-strength condoms. All he gets is a thumbs up though, so his nerve isn't tested and he makes it back home in one piece.

He strolls back in nonchalantly and makes sure his bedroom is well-stocked with clean towels, wet-wipes and bottles of water, and then carefully, very carefully, makes sure he is thoroughly clean and hygienic. Just in case Cas wants to – just in case.

Dean has a plan, and it's a good one. At least, he thinks Cas will appreciate it and definitely understand it, which counts as good. He makes sure the heating's turned up, gets naked, and props himself up on his bed, leaning back on his pillows nonchalantly. Then he thinks better of the complete nudity and puts on the leather cuffs and the dick socks.

Just the thought of what he's hopefully about to do is enough to get him hard, and all that's left is to type a text message with shaking fingers. “hey Cas thanks for the presents! wearing them tonight ;)” and away it goes.

He takes a picture of his feet and captions it “super cosy!”. Then he takes a picture of his wrist and says “badass and hot!” and honestly he's using too much punctuation here by a long way but he's committed now.

Last picture. He rolls the knitted condom down his dick – the sensation is something he's definitely going to revisit, however this works out – and takes a picture of that, too, and sends it away with the caption “do you like the fit?”, and then hyperventilates for a minute. He's panicking so hard he has to double check he's actually sent them to the right person, but all of his fears disappear when he hears running footsteps skidding to a halt outside his door.

“Come in, Cas,” he calls, giddy with anticipation, and Cas slips through the door and locks it behind him with fumbling hands.

He's a beautiful sight, eyes wide with wonder and dark with lust, trousers tented, and his voice is rougher than usual as he says, “Hello, Dean.” He steps closer to the bed and bites his lip. “The – the fit looks to be quite good from here, yes, although I'd have to inspect it more closely to be sure. If that's fine with you.”

Dean can't tell if that's the smoothest line he's ever heard or just Cas being a dork, but either way he's nodding his head eagerly and blushing furiously. “Yeah, that's uh... that'd be totally cool with me. I mean I put it on for you, so...”

Instead of starting with his dick, though, Cas sits on the end of the bed and pulls Dean's feet into his lap. He examines the fit of the socks carefully, one foot at a time. Feet have never been Dean's thing, and this ain't exactly sexy, but there's something about the gentle touch and absolute attention that has him biting his lips and breathing faster anyway.

Cas scoots up the bed and Dean's dick twitches in anticipation, but Cas reaches for his hands instead and makes a show of checking the leather bands closely, the corner of his lip twitching into a smirk as a wet patch appears at the tip of the condom. “Don't worry, Dean, it's hand-washable,” he says smugly. “These aren't though. I have some other accessories made in the leather, if you want to try them any time.”

Dean gulps. “Yeah? What sort of accessories?” he manages, high and breathy and hard as hell.

“Just a few things I think you might look good in. If you wanted to try them, anyway. I wasn't sure if you'd like anything more... constrictive.” For the first time, Cas sounds uncertain and shy. “And if they don't fit you they could be easily adapted for, for me. Assuming you want to do this again sometime.”

“I didn't send you a dick pic because I wanted a quickie, Cas,” Dean snorts, but he's not a total asshole and he reaches up to cup Cas' face. “I'm in this for as long as you'll have me. I can't guarantee I won't need some alone time here and there, but you're – you're it for me, man. You're my happy ending.”

Cas' lips part and he lets out a tiny punched out sigh before surging forward and kissing Dean, hard and sloppy and wonderful. Cas hasn't had a lot of practice, but what he lacks in experience he makes up for with enthusiasm and an eagerness to learn that sees the kiss go from passionate to tender to scorching hot before Cas pulls away again and struggles out of his overcoat and suit jacket.

He's breathing heavily, his hair is a mess from Dean's hands, and his lips are swollen and slick. His trouser situation is uncomfortable too if his grimace while he readjusts himself is anything to go by, and Dean reaches out for his belt only to be pinned with a fierce glare. “I still have to check the fit of the last item you're modelling, Dean,” he says severely, and Dean's hit by another wave of desire so strong he has to bite back a moan.

One long finger strokes over the wet patch on the tip of the condom and, completely against his will, Dean whimpers. Cas circles his cock head, checking for a tight fit, and Dean whimpers again. He traces down to the root with a delicate touch that's still overwhelming, and Dean squirms and moans, desperately seeking more stimulation. He slips the tip of his finger inside the condom to check how much room there is, and Dean's dick jerks so much that his finger is pulled out.

This is almost unbearable. “Please,” Dean whispers. “I don't like begging, Cas, don't make me.”

Cas wraps his hand around him, the sensation muted by the yarn but still a relief, and kisses him again. “Trust me,” he murmurs. “You're safe with me.”

“Always,” Dean says hoarsely, and Cas starts moving his hand. The bumps of the stitches are unexpectedly pleasant, but it's not nearly enough, and Dean squirms for a moment until Cas purses his lips and unrolls the condom carefully a puts it to one side.

He tips his head and frowns slightly in contemplation, and another clear droplet of pre-come oozes out of Dean and starts slowly obeying gravity. All of that angelic patience vanishes in an instant and Cas growls, actually growls, whilst tearing his shirt off – actually tears it off, Dean can hear the stitches rip, and it's the hottest thing he's ever seen bar none – and then manhandles Dean so that he's lying flat on his back with his legs pinned to the bed.

“Tell me what you want,” Cas demands. He kisses Dean before he can answer, hard and insistent; his hips roll down against Dean and he breaks off to moan and do it again. “Dean. Tell me.”

Dean fumbles at his belt. “Start with getting naked, Cas, I wanna see you.” He can't deny that the feeling of being the only one naked added an extra little edge of excitement, but the thought of seeing Cas without that suit has been the subject of many late-night musings. Plus Cas is still in shoes, and getting accidentally kicked by them will hurt enough to maybe spoil the mood.

Cas' fingers seems to have the same clumsiness that Dean's do, but Dean helps as much as he can. He fumbles his own socks off too, they've served their purpose and his feet are starting to get too hot what with all of the burning lust. Actually, he's kind of surprised that he has enough blood left over to make it that far down, given how hard and throbbing he is, but anatomy's not his strong point.

Naked, Cas is every bit as magnificent as Dean had imagined. His legs are heavily muscled, his chest is broad, his dick is perfect. Not too big to be intimidating, not so small that Dean won't feel it if they – not tonight, but maybe tomorrow. Dean's been pegged enough times (Lisa had a thing for it) to know that he really likes it, and the thought of Cas inside him has definitely inspired more than one long shower.

In fact, Cas' dick is more than just perfect, it's delectable. Dean grins at Cas, kisses him to distract him, and flips him over onto what has always been his side of the bed, even if Dean never told anyone it was. Cas takes a breath in to complain but Dean's fast and determined and has kind of always wanted to try this, and he slides down the bed and licks the glistening pre-come away – tastes alright, mostly salty and clear – and fits his mouth around Cas, and instead of a complaint there's just a choked moan.

Dean draws on all of his years of experience of having his own dick sucked to inform his movements. He does the tongue thing that he's always liked, swirling over the top and round the sensitive skin on the underside. He sucks carefully, trying to avoid any tooth-scraping, and bobs his head up and down to take in as much as possible, and jacks off what won't fit in his mouth.

Cas makes beautiful noises as he does, gasps and moans and groans and breathy murmurs of Dean's name that make Dean desperate for friction. His jaw starts aching just before Cas pulls him back up on top of him – Dean never knew it was so much effort to suck dick – and kisses him desperately. They slide together for a while, rutting like teenagers, but Dean doesn't want to let Cas hump his leg until he comes, he wants to make him come with his actions.

So he pulls back and props himself up on one arm. Cas is a mess beneath him, all sex hair and panting and flushed face and chest, and Dean's pretty sure he looks the same. “What are you stopping?” Cas says wildly, trying to pull him back down, but Dean smiles and wraps his hand round both of their dicks.

He knew his broad fingers had to be good for something. Cas is slick with spit and they're both leaking pre-come so it's easy to set up a rhythm, and it's so much better to have another dick next to his own, hot and heavy and needy all because of Dean.

Cas brings up his hand as well and matches Dean's rhythm, and it doesn't take long before his balls start to tighten and tension begins to coil deep in his belly. “Gonna come soon, Cas,” he warns. “You're so – shit, right there, yes – you feel so damn good.”

“Oh, Dean,” Cas sighs, and then gives a long drawn-out moan as he comes all over Dean's fist, and chest, and dick, and that's enough for Dean, too. He goes rigid as he comes, looking into Cas' eyes the whole time, mouth open but silent, and he jerks them both carefully through the aftershocks until they're both boneless and entangled.

Dean's earlier preparation pays off big time here; he wipes them both clean and shares a bottle of water with Cas, and covers them with blankets when the sweat begins to cool and chill their skin. Cas smiles sleepily at him in between trading kisses, and it's so domestic and perfect that a small part of Dean is afraid that this is all some djinn dream, but he's pretty sure it's not and he honestly doesn't care if it is.

They drift off to sleep, and do it all again the next morning. And the next. And the next.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have any links for you, but herewith is is a list of suggestions regarding the sexier knitwear gifts Dean gets.
> 
> The black and white socks are knitted in Fair Isle (or stranded) knitting, meaning they won't have a lot of give to them but they're extra warm, perfect for wandering around a cold bunker. This kind of knitting is traditionally used for intricate patterns, and it's perfectly possible to make a pattern that fools the eye into seeing it one way when actually it's something else. It's be tricky to do, but Cas knows how the brain works.
> 
> The dick scarf, though, that's done with illusion knitting - where the pattern only appears from certain angles due to the nature of the stitches. I've not done it myself but it's a well-known if rather plain style, and it inspires a lot of comedy double takes.
> 
> Leather cuffs - it's possible to knit with practically anything long and thin, and there are a wide variety of yarn types out there. I've seen paper yarn and metal yarn before, and in comparison to knitted with wire, which I've done, knitting with leather would be a breeze.
> 
> Crochet is the best medium for really gappy lacework and really rigid structured pieces, which makes it the best medium for making a penis. With different types of stitches it would be possible to emulate a bumpy vein or two, and with so many colours of yarn out there it's possible to colour match too, for extra verisimilitude.
> 
> Finally, there's a few patterns out there for knitted or crocheted condoms. I envisaged something knitted on 2mm needles, so really really fine, and made with a luxury yarn with a high silk content, because I figured that Cas would want to treat Dean. Also, silk is hypoallergenic, which is important on delicate and sensitive skin. Needless to say, knitted condoms are completely useless at actually being a contraceptive, and would be very drying inside the body. Decorative only, not functional at all.
> 
>  
> 
> Find me on tumblr [here](https://knittedgauntlets.tumblr.com).


End file.
